


Not a vacation

by darkmoore



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 13:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10945887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkmoore/pseuds/darkmoore
Summary: Dean and Sam just want to get this salt 'n burn done. But since McGarrett never takes no for an answer things get a little more complicated.





	Not a vacation

Dean cursed under his breath and wiped sweat from his forehead that threatened to trickle into his eyes. “This sucks, Sammy. It’s the middle of the night and it still feels like a frickin’ sauna. Remind me why the fuck we agreed to do this?” 

“Because the local hunter is out of commission after his run in with that Chupacabra, and McGarrett didn’t sound like he can take on a vengeful spirit?” Sammy sounded vaguely exasperated. “Come on Dean, it’s Hawaii. It’s beaches and sand and sunshine, and not even you should be in such a bad mood.”

“This isn’t a vacation, Sammy,” Dean snapped irritably. He was sweating like mad and he hated it. The jeans and ankle high boots might be a necessary precaution when hunting, but shorts and flip-flops would definitively have been more comfortable. “If this were vacation I wouldn’t be shoveling dirt in the middle of the night for a goddamn salt-n-burn. And I’d have my car.”

“Of course. Of course you need your car, Dean. What’s next? Complaining about the food? The pie not to your liking around here?” Sam adjusted the lighting and changed his grip on the iron poker he was holding. He’d been helping Dean dig up the grave but their vengeful spirit had attacked them twice already and she was as vicious as they came. Already Sam was sporting bright red scratch marks along his left cheek. 

“I sure hope we won’t be here long enough for me to find out. This job sucks.” Dean didn’t even try to hide his annoyance. First they got a call from this SEAL-turned-task-force-leader guy who apparently found one of their dad’s old phone numbers in his father’s notes. He’d decided to call them when the locals started talking about a walking spirit. Then the guy actually tried to keep them from coming to help, insisting he could take care of any problems himself, even though he had no fucking clue what that problem-solving entailed. At least he believed in spirits and ghosts and didn’t think the locals had gone crazy. It was an improvement over most of their run in with law enforcement in general – Jodie and Donna obviously being the exception. 

Sammy sighed and Dean shot him a glare. “What? You want me to pretend it doesn’t?” Dean frowned at him. “You want me to pretend I’m not fucking disgusting after digging around in a grave in this kind of humidity? Newsflash, Chuck did not throw in a spa-day at one of those fancy resorts, princess.”

“I get it Dean, all right? You hate it here. We’ll leave as soon as this is over. I-” he broke off and tilted his head and Dean stilled. He’d heard something, too. It wasn’t the spirit though, or the countless animals they knew were wandering around in the area.

“Five-0! Freeze!” 

Dean suppressed a curse. That sounded like McGarrett. God dammit, he had told the idiot to stay away. Sam had his hands full keeping the spirit at bay and Dean wasn’t done digging yet – they had no fucking time to play babysitter for McGarrett and the other guy who had appeared right behind him, aiming their guns at them. 

“McGarrett, is that you? Thought I told you Sam and I would take care of your problem. What the hell are you doing here?” Dean didn’t even try to hide his annoyance. There was a very vicious vengeful spirit on the loose and even being near them and the grave he was digging up put McGarrett and the person Dean assumed was his partner in danger.

“Could you put the guns away, Commander McGarrett? You asked for our help, so you’re not planning on shooting us now, are you?” Sam sounded a lot calmer and in control than Dean, but Dean was fine with that.

“You know them, babe?” the other guy asked, and McGarrett cursed under his breath even as he re-holstered his gun. 

“How did you get here, Winchester? I should have been notified the moment you set foot on my island. You shouldn’t even be here. I told you I have everything under control. You could have just told me-” 

McGarrett didn't get to finish his sentence because the vengeful spirit appeared out of nowhere and flung him about ten feet across the graveyard, right into a marble headstone. She vanished and almost instantly reappeared over McGarrett, taking a swipe at his chest and ripping through the bulletproof vest as if it were made of paper.

Dean didn’t know if McGarrett was still alive, but it was clear they had run out of time. He started digging faster, trying to get the last of the earth out of the way so he could open up the coffin. If he didn’t burn those bones fast, none of them might make it out of this graveyard alive. 

“Get away from him you bitch!” Sam yelled, and Dean could see him out of the corner of his eye as he charged after the spirit with the iron poker. The guy McGarrett had brought along shook off his stupor and ran after Sam to check on his fallen partner. 

Dean cursed. This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted amateurs around for this gig. They were just way too unpredictable. But it was too late for that now. Might was well make the best of it. 

“Hey, I could use a little help here,” Dean called and stabbed at the lid of the coffin with his shovel, hard. “You can take care of him once we’ve gotten rid of the spirit.” 

Dean could see the guy wanted to argue but the fact that Sam was still trying to keep the spirit from ripping all of them to shreds apparently made him reconsider. He pushed to his feet, ran over to Dean and jumped into the grave right next to him. 

“What do you need me to do?” the guy asked. 

“Help me get the coffin open. I wasn’t done digging yet.” Dean needed another set of hands to make things go faster, before someone else got hurt. 

Together they managed to get access to the bones. They climbed out of the grave and Dean poured lighter fluid and salt into the coffin before setting everything on fire. The spirit that had been attacking Sam went up in flames with a high pitched screech and McGarrett’s partner went even paler than he already had been. The he took off at a run and dropped to his knees next to McGarrett. 

Dean followed him, worried that they might be too late, that McGarrett would be already dead. It sucked when people they tried to help didn’t make it but Chuck had ‘answered a prayer’ a couple of times for them, so maybe if they asked nicely-

McGarrett’s vest and shirt were ripped to shreds, showing torn flesh underneath the remnants of his clothes. His chest was only rising and falling shallowly and he looked pale and clammy in the sort of way that indicated heavy blood loss and imminent death. Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. This was worse than he had hoped it would be. 

The other guy had gotten rid of his own tac vest and had taken off his t-shirt which he was now using to apply pressure to the heavily bleeding chest wound. His movements were economic and precise as if this wasn’t the first time he was doing this. When he started to rant at his unconscious partner, Dean couldn’t tell if it was from fear or anger, but it didn’t really matter anyway. The guy seemed pretty proficient in asking for Chuck’s help without really knowing it. 

“Of course you’d face a ghost and lose, you big jerk. You’re not going out this way, you hear me? Stay with me, Steven. Please, God, stay with me. You can’t just die here when I can’t even fucking explain how you ended up like this. What am I gonna tell the others, huh? And my kids, they love you. Don’t make me a liar by dying on me now. I promised them I’d keep you safe.” McGarrett’s breath hitched in a very concerning way and his partner seemed to lose it completely. “Oh God, please don’t let him die. You can’t do this to me, babe. You do not get to fucking die on me, Steven, you hear me?”

Suddenly Chuck was kneeling next to him, laying a gentle hand on the guy’s shoulder, startling him badly. 

“What the hell?” 

“Don’t worry, Daniel. It’s gonna be fine. I do occasionally answer prayers,” Chuck said and his voice was as kind as Dean had come to expect. Ever since making his peace with Amara he had the supportive father act down perfectly. 

While the partner - Daniel - stared dumbfounded, Chuck made a small gesture in McGarrett’s direction, healing him and restoring his clothes and gear to their former state.

McGarrett gasped and his eyes snapped open, his hands going to his chest in reflex as if to check for residue injuries. Even though Dean should be used to it by now after having seen Cas and Chuck do this countless times, it never ceased to amaze him. The power in such a small gesture. The difference between life and death. 

“There, good as new.” Chuck grinned and got to his feet. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. You wrap up here, I’ll take you back in ten minutes,” he said in Sam’s direction and disappeared. 

“What just happened?” Startled confusion was clearly visible on Daniel’s face. “How…?”

Sammy smiled. “That was Chuck. He usually doesn’t show up himself but I guess he made an exception for you. Daniel is it?” 

“Yeah, I … I’m Danny Williams. You want to tell me what the fuck just happened here?” Williams looked lost and baffled, but also incredibly relieved. 

McGarrett pushed himself into a sitting position and ran his hands over his tac vest and upper body, looking about as startled and confused as Williams did. “Did this guy just _heal_ me?”

“Well, if you’d stayed away like we told you, no healing would have been necessary,” Dean commented drily. 

“I ask again, what the hell just happened here?” Williams was bordering on hysteric. Almost losing his partner and then watching him get healed was a lot for him to process.

Sam’s voice was gentle when he said, “Your partner got hurt. You prayed. Chuck answered your prayer. Nothing else to it. Just say thanks and move on.”A smile was curling Sammy’s lips and Dean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. 

“And who or what is he exactly?” Sarcastic now. Denial would follow, Dean was sure of that. 

“He’s the one you prayed to, dude,” Dean said impatiently and collected the shovel, iron poker and other things that were still strewn around the area. 

“I didn’t pray. I don’t _pray_ all right?” Williams folded his arms in front of his chest and glared. 

“Fine, whatever. You know, it doesn’t really matter, okay? Believe it, don’t believe it, I don’t care and neither does he. Just let us wrap things up here and Chuck will zap us back home and no one needs to talk about this ever again. Just one thing: if you ever need our help again, stay the fuck away. Next time one of you might end up permanently dead. You got me?” Dean was so done with this. He needed a shower and a beer and some sleep right fucking now. 

“So you’re just gonna … vanish?” McGarrett asked. He seemed to be dealing with the situation better than his partner. 

“We’re done here so yeah, we’re going back home,” Sammy replied. “As for the details – you really don’t want to ask those kinds of questions, okay?” Apparently Sam was worried that McGarrett might be a lot less skeptical and a lot more inquisitive than Williams. 

Dean sighed. “Listen, dude, I’m sweaty, I’m filthy, I’m hungry. There is no decent beer on this fucking island and we didn’t exactly book a spa day, so we’re leaving. Keep your mouth shut about the vengeful spirit and this will all be over.”

Sam picked up his duffel and cast one last look around the area to see if they had forgotten anything. “You ready Dean?”

“Yeah, you bet,” Dean replied. He raised his hand to wave at McGarrett and Williams and a second later found himself in his room in the bunker. 

Time for a shower.


End file.
